Born of Fire
by A.D. Reese
Summary: Of all the things Bilbo Baggins could have returned with that day, he brought a woman! And not just any woman, an odd one. She came and left as she pleased, and that was not good. Most said she was an elf, but her ears were odd-she must've been a different kind of elf, that one. Or probably not an elf at all! What were those Bagginses hiding in that hobbit Hole?
1. Chapter 1

**Born of Fire**

 **By A.D. Reese**

 **A tale of great sorrow, and a love unlike any other.**

 _ **Da'len**_

Six hundred years it took for the great egg to hatch. She had been laid at the peak of their mountain, _Nastari._ The peak between seasons, in the tongue of man. This is the peak that slipped through the clouds, the highest peak in Middle Earth. It pointed straight up, ascending even higher than the Nesting Grounds where a vicious storm was always brewing just past the light. It's where the children played. This was her home. Her mother, the great, valiant Saphira had waited near the youngest egg for long enough, and now she left the duty to her eldest son. She watched the other hatchlings, though they had grown much bigger than an infant drake, as they played.

Her scales were a deep, gorgeous blue. They sparkled and glittered in the light, the most beautiful scales in Middle Earth she would wager.

"Omisiel, stay away from the edge!" She snapped at a small obsidian drake. He did not listen at her order as he continued to wrestle ferociously with his other brother. She may not have laid all of them, but she did hatch them all. It was her duty after all, to await the hatching of her youngest. She truly didn't remember whom they belonged to, but in times of need, drakes would lay their eggs in the nest of another to ensure their safety before they were off.

Where were they off to? A war waged beneath them at the bottom of the mountain, in their land, but the children did not know. Shattered eggs had been found in nests around Middle Earth, and Saphira did not know if she could lose another egg, the loss was too great. The dark spawn, the abominations had been hunting their children. Saphira huffed through her nose at the thought, a low rumble growing in her chest. _How dare they._

" _Mamae!"_ Came a cry from the cave in which the last egg lay. A young dragon stood at the entrance, his eyes wide as he stared at his mother. He was green scaled, the green resembled a jewel, priceless and as beautiful as an emerald. His name was Aragon. " _The-the egg!"_ He choked out. Saphira swallowed, her heart lurching. She lowered her head to enter the cave as she peered at the golden egg. It had turned over on its side as a loud _crack_ sounded.

Saphira walked to her egg hesitantly, bowing her head to the golden shell. "Oh, my _Vhenan._ " She said. "Finally." With a small cry from inside the shell, it split in two. Saphira widened her eyes in surprise, not expecting the beautiful blue scales of the small drake. Typically, the scales of an egg were a depiction of the scales of the drake inside.

"A _girl._ " Saphira had never bore a girl and her eyes sparkled with fresh tears, but dragons did not cry so easily. She looked like her mother, and stared up with big, blue eyes. Instead of having bat-like wings like many of her kin, she held the large feathered wings of her mother. She was full of surprises. "Little one," Saphira said in her deep, smoky voice. "I have waited so long for you."

Saphira named her Rowen, and she grew just as slowly as she'd hatched. She did not speak for a long while, though Saphira knew she was one of the smartest children, if not the smartest, on _Nastari_. She was a temperamental child, her attitude changing on the dime, and she stayed up through the night to peer at the stars from the opening of the cave. She grew up strong, and her size rivaled her elder siblings. The older she became, the more beautiful and intelligent. Saphira was so proud to be the mother of Rowen. She was the first to ask Saphira of what happened at the bottom of their mountain, the first to demand answers.

!

Young dragons are not taught to take the form of man until their magic is fully matured, which happens to all drakes at different ages, for no dragon is the same. Rowen's magic was not the strongest, it seemed she was a fighter, not a sorcerer. She was a fierce fighter, and she easily could take down her brother and the rest of her kin around the mountain. However, it seemed to take eons for her magic to mature. She had waited long enough, peering at her fellow children as they got used to their human bodies. It was not _mandatory_ but dragons could not venture to the surface with their wings out and fangs gleaming unless they wanted a fight. Dragons were culturally diverse, and often visited many colonies all over Middle Earth, and that had to be done on two legs.

It took Rowen very long to conjure up the _mana,_ or _elgar_ to change. It is always painful the first time. In a flurry of blue scales and smoke, she appeared to be a fourteen-year-old human girl. Her form was dark skinned, with long, tightly coiled obsidian curls. Her mother led her to the reservoir to peer at her reflection. The water rippled as it displayed soft features, a round nose, and large blue eyes. She reached up with her talons to touch the face when-

Her talons weren't talons at all, but soft, fleshy digits. _Hands_ , she thought. She curled them into her palm, and then relaxed them.

"What do you think, _Da'len_?" Her mother questioned, her massive head bowed to the human form of her daughter.

"I don't know what to think, _Mamae._ " She looked back at the reflection and away from her mother. Much to her surprise, a beautiful woman appeared beside her, with slanted eyes and defined, hollow cheekbones. Her skin was much paler than Rowen's, her eyes outshining any blue Rowen had ever seen. Her jaw was wide and defined, her nose long and straight. Her ears, like her daughters, were quite pointy and stuck out from the dark waves of her mother's hair. She peered down at the reflection of her daughter and Rowen peered back as though she was envious of her mother's face. She had never wanted to appear as anything, so it was odd for her to feel this now.

"By human standards, we are quite beautiful." She stated as she leaned back away from the water. Rowen did as well, taking in her mother's appearance. She was draped in a fine material, a cloth that was so soft as Rowen reached out and ran it through her fingers. "It's improper for humans to walk around without clothing. It's immodest." Rowen flushed, bringing her hands up to cover her chest and private parts. Saphira removed her shawl from overtop her intricate dress and wrapped it around Rowen's shoulders.

Rowen glanced around, seeing the other children but noticing they too were wearing clothing. Her brother, Aragon was tall and appeared much older than her. His skin was pale, and his obsidian curls were tied back. He wore something covering his chest, and then long cloth fell over both of his human legs, covering his intimate parts. A boy beside him cast a curious glance at Rowen and she immediately felt the embarrassment of not having scales to cover her. "I would like to get some clothes, _Mamae._ " She told her mother. Saphira let out a brisk laugh and nodded, her eyes crinkling.

"We will take a trip to the realm of men, Da'len." She ran her hand over Rowen's hair. The shawl was long and brushed against Rowen's calves when they stood.

!

Truly, Rowen didn't understand the term "beauty" until her mother had entered the district. Small vendors lined the stone walls of the street that bustled with life as it was barely noon. As soon as Saphira passed by a man, his eyes were set on her face, as though he didn't know there was a woman beside him. Rowen watched first hand as her mother bewitched these men, and understood that beauty was clearly a weapon, or a curse. Rowen didn't think she could ever love those looks that men gave her mother. It seemed invasive, intrusive, like they were going to pounce. If only they knew her mother's true form. Saphira spared him a glance, and Rowen listened to his heartbeat stammer in his chest as his mate beside him gave him a gaping glare.

"Mother." Rowen said with furrowed brows. "What did you do to him?" She questioned as her mother guided her to a vendor that sold impressive yet simple dresses.

"It's called, beauty, dear one." Saphira said in her low, smoky voice. Men from all corners of the street seemed to be glancing at her mother, and Saphira seemed like she did not care. "You'll understand when you're older."

"I do not wish to understand." Rowen said quietly, shaking her head. "Where are we?" She questioned, changing the subject swiftly.

"Outside the woodland realm of Mirkwood, in a settlement of men." Rowen's head jerked up quickly, curiously. Saphira breathed through her nose with a laugh as her daughter seemingly recalled the stories of Mirkwood. "Yes, the elves live near."

Rowen held up the gown her mother had folded over her arm. "How do I play in this?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. Saphira stared at her and put a finger to her sharp chin.

"We will try out many things, dear one." Saphira decided.

!

The worst part about being intelligent, is that you are aware that everything comes to an end. Being aware that your happiness will only be short lived is the worst feeling.

They came in the night. They bashed in the shells of eggs with their human weapons, the hilts of swords. However, these monsters were not human, they were something much worse. Their skin was grey, their mouths dripped slime, they were filled with guttural noises and black blood. They were dark spawn, they were abominations. _He_ had sent them to either take the youngest and kill everything else. He wanted nothing to do with the shells, as he did not know their pedigree.

Her mother's roar woke her. She was in an exhausted stupor, but all she could see was the blue of her mother's scales as she was tossed outside the cave when her mother attacked. A shimmering green dragon descended from above, his jaws wide as he spat fire at the bodies of these-these _things._

Rowen cried out when something cold and metal pierced her side, breaking past her young scales. She peered down at the staff and angrily swept her tail at the goblin. The _orc._ It yelled insurprise as it flew over the edge of the mountain."I will end you!" She roared but it was cut short when she realized the damage that had been done to _Nastari._

" _Mamae?_ " She called, raising her head to look around. Goblins, _orcs_ , approached from every angle, climbing up the mountain on the backs of ugly mutts. They had lost the fight to protect _Nastari_ below. Her mother, who was the largest dragon on _Nastari_ was cornered, being poked at with staffs and swords. A ferocious growl escaped her and Rowen watched as her mother slayed the beasts in the cave. She rushed out to her children, watching the others abandon the peak.

" _Mamae,_ what do we do?" Aragon asked, as the orcs closed in on them, pushing them against the edge.

" _Fly,_ Aragon." She ordered him, her eyes wide with fear. Both Aragon and Rowen looked at her fearfully, breathing fire at the goblins in front of them.

" _Mamae, please-"_ Rowen said but Saphira was staring at Aragon.

" _Go._ " Aragon spread his wings, never the one to disobey an order. He backed away to the edge and the dived off, knowing Rowen would follow, even if by force. Saphira did not give Rowen time to argue and pressed her nose to her belly, giving her a powerful shove and tossing her daughter from _Nastari._ Rowen hadn't the time to try and stop her, and her talons could not grasp the ice in time. She fell away from her mother, screaming as she released her wings.

Aragon circled the peak, his own eyes wide with fear. He realized now that Rowen, his dear sister, was his responsibility, and he could hardly take care of himself.

!

 **da'len: little one**

 **mamae: mother**

 **nastari: made up word for** _ **nesting ground/peak between the seasons**_

 _ **words came from the elven language of dragon age or my brain. send feedback 3**_

 _ **disclaimer: i do not own the langage of dragon age™ or the lord of the rings™**_

 _ **i do own rowen, saphira, aragon etc**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Born of Fire**

 **By A.D. Reese**

 **A tale of great sorrow, and a love unlike any other.**

 _ **Gaia**_

She was a strange woman. The strangest woman the Shire had been exposed too, they would wager. The gossip was electric as they whispered over their shoulders, or over a swift trade. Who was the woman at Bag End? Of all the things that Bilbo Baggins could have returned with that afternoon, he brought a woman! He hadn't brought back a trinket, nor details of his adventure, just walked right back into Hobbiton with a tall, dark shadow following after him.

In said woman's defense, she had attempted a conversation, but the Shire didn't take too kindly to odd strangers…at least not the men and women. The children trailed after her like baby ducklings, desperate for her attention. Rowen claimed wholeheartedly that she did not like children, but hobbit children were so small and round faced, something that always had her grinning from ear to ear with glee.

However, their parents would often grasp at their collars, urging them to leave the Stranger alone. Yes, in the beginning, they all called her Stranger. So it was only fitting that once they learned of her true name, she was deemed Rowen Strange. She did not understand their need to label her, but she accepted it none the less.

They didn't ask Rowen Strange of where she came from, of what elf realm. From her height to her sharp ears, she could have passed for an odd, dark-skinned elf. So that was what they told themselves to ease the curiosity. Even though her eyes, a piercing blue that read them with ease, put nearly all the hobbits on edge, they did not ask where she hailed from. And though she smiled at them, and often bought goods from them, they were always slightly put off. She looked like a predator, like she was on a prowl for something or someone.

Yes, the hobbits were often kind to her face, but Heavens only knew the things they said when she left on one of her wretched adventures that had the children whining and wishing for her return. The parents would almost rather have her in the Shire than listen to their children complain of her absence.

Disturber of the peace, she was.

Always gathering up their children and showing them grand gestures of magic and spells. Always telling them awful stories that nearly had their children running for the hills to find adventures of their own. Always finding Gandalf's (the Wizard) fireworks and setting them off for giant displays of dragons and fairies and the like. Always bringing them fancy trinkets and toys.

Imagine if they'd found out about her true heritage? How do you think a bunch of halflings would react to a dragon living in their Shire. They'd go mad, clearly.

If you've heard what I've heard, which is only a little, then you would have heard that Morgoth bred them. They are rumored to be beings of mass destructions-evil beings, but I will have you know that everything you have been told of dragons is completely wrong.

Before there was man, there was dragon.

Eons ago, Gaia swam among the stars on her own. She flew from one end of existence to another, without a home or a baring. She was larger than all of the stars in the galaxies, and therefore never had anywhere to rest. She came across a cold, massive star, that did not shine. She decided that it was far too cold and she found the largest star in existence and set fire to it, allowing her smaller star to warm considerably. It was comfortable.

Gaia found that her small star was so massive as she grew closer, that she could not see the end of the star. When she landed on the star, its cracked surface seemed to stretch on for ages. Gaia quite liked the star, and found that the star quite liked her as well, as she could feel its steady heart beneath her. " _Planet,"_ she decided. "For it has a heartbeat, it is alive, so it is no star."

One evening, there was a single flower sprouted from the ground! It was blue, and the color was quite beautiful, and she named it Saphir. When the moon shone on Saphir, he glowed brightly, twinkling as though he was a star of his own.

Though without water, Saphir was dying, and only Gaia could bring it water. Gaia opened her massive jaws wide, desperate to not let the beautiful flower die, and was surprised when water spouted forth from her and filled the earth for as far as the eye could see.

Gaia quite liked sculpting herself a world, and spent her days in creating vast canyons and tall mountains. It was beautiful, and for years she was content until she realized that of all the beautiful things she had created, she had only one to share with. Saphir was kind company, but she craved a companion.

First, it was a storm that she spawned with massive wing strokes, and from that storm hailed a smaller dragon than herself. She called him Statiel.

From her fiery breath that sculpted the highest volcano, came Ignis, her daughter of fire.

Then, from her womb, came the biggest dragon, Terra.

The products of these children ruled the seas and the mountains.

Fields of Saphir grew, filling her lands with a glowing petals and shattered starlight and all was well until the men came. Gaia was kind, and willing to share all that was hers, she learned the ways of men, and then used her magic to walk amongst them.

She was the mother, the First, and because of that, her daughters were the strongest, and their daughters, and their daughters after them.

They were strong, valiant creatures. After eons of being hunted by the darkspawn, they resigned to their regions, and kept to themselves. They did not wage war for a long while after _Nastari_ , but Rowen felt a storm brewing.

For this reason, she stayed near her hobbits. She watched their borders, unwilling to allow any harm to come to Bilbo, or Frodo for that matter.

She met Frodo nearly a week after he'd been dropped off. She returned with trinkets and some seasoned pork. She pushed the door open with her free arm, shocked to see a small, rosy cheeked, and dark haired little hobbit.

Bilbo had informed her before she had gone of what was to come, and she had seemingly forgotten or misplaced the knowledge. She tucked her things on the table after she shut the door. He peered around the threshold of the kitchen. She took a seat and pushed her hood away from her face, giving the shy little hobbit a good view. She leaned forward as he eyed her with one blue ye.

"So this is your nephew?" She called to Bilbo.

"It appears so!" Bilbo called in reply. "He's quite the little devil, though he puts on a good face."

"Maybe Bag End will be a little fun after all," Rowen said with a smile as she ducked her head. Frodo gave her a little smile. "I've been so excited to meet you, Da'len." He came out from behind the doorframe, his little hands behind his back as he shyly stared up at the dragon. Her voice was deep and smooth, and it made him feel safe.

Bilbo watched from the doorway as Frodo made careful steps towards her. He had seen her magic shows, but he had never been alone with her like this. Now he had all the time in the world to ask for magic!

"Can I see what you've got in your bag?" He asked nosily, and Rowen laughed at him, and he smiled. Yes, he quite liked the sound of her laugh. With hands that felt like they could break him, yet they did not, she placed him on the table, his large feet dangling.

"Pick what you'd like, Da'len."

"What does that mean?"

"It means little one. It's the language of where I am from." She told him, he nodded, about to ask her _Just where is that?_ When he found a plush dragon in the bag, and wooden swords, and play shields carved from oak.

"Can I play with these?" Frodo asked excitedly, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Of course, Da'len." Frodo looked up at her and caught sight of her pointed ears, and then brought a hand up to his own ears. He made a face, furrowing his eyebrows. It was quite adorable, and Rowen grinned at him.

"Hm." Is all he hummed before he looked back down at his new toys.

Bilbo used a cloth to dry an empty pint as he watched the exchange with a smile. It warmed his very being to see her smile that much.

!

 **SWIGGITY SWAGGER IM BOUTTA TIMESKIP SO SHE CAN MEET LEGOLASS**


	3. Chapter 3

**Born of Fire**

 **By A.D. Reese**

 **A tale of great sorrow, and a love unlike any other.**

 _ **Concern**_

 **C** oncern. That's the word that could most accurately describe the little one on the day of Truth. He had been thinking about how he was to confront her of the issue. Was it an issue at all? Frodo though about it, convincing himself that if he couldn't see that she was clearly an elf, than the question was appropriate. Though the hobbits of the Shire may be fooled, Frodo Baggins was not, and he felt as though there was something he did not know.

Frodo Baggins did not like being left out of the loop. No, he didn't like that at all. Rowen was at home at Bag End, but she left quite often, and didn't return for days at a time. Frodo feared that one day she would just not come home at all, and his Rowen would be gone.

"Rowen," He began that day, standing in front of her as she cleaned an impressive sword. It was a charmed dagger, that she warned him burned red hot if he tried to touch it, and it glowed when "danger" were near. It seemed farfetched, but he believed her. It was a gorgeous weapon, with gold and copper adhered to the hilt and blade, and it coined the name Hollow. He had always wanted to wield something like that, but he knew it would be far too heavy for him. And he was in the Shire, where nothing exciting ever happened.

"Yes, da'len?" She questioned, the pads of her fingers sliding over the tip of the blade as she tested its sharpness.

"Why're you always leaving?" he asked her, concerned as he noted the bag sitting at her feet. Her polishing of the blade did not still, as though she had been prepared for such a question. "Are you returning to your elves?"

Rowen looked up at him, raising a thin eyebrow. _Elves?_ She wondered. "I've just heard so many stories of them sailing West." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in fear.

"I'm not an elf, Frodo." She said, shaking her head as she placed Hollow into its hilt. "I have a secret." She murmured.

Frodo frowned at her and opened his mouth, but she held up a finger. "You have to keep this secret, da'len. For only our Bilbo knows." Frodo bit at his lip. "If you do not keep this a secret, I will have to be away for a long time." His eyes grew wide, nearly filling with tears.

"I won't tell a soul, not even Samwise Gamgee!" Rowen grinned at him and patted the seat beside her. Frodo took a seat, his hands in his lap nervously.

"What do you know of dragons?" She asked him softly.

"Bilbo told me that they're kind, but that's not what the others say. They say that dragons are vicious-cruel. That they're greedy, and big and scary." His child-like reaction would have been endearing any other day, but at this moment she made a disappointed noise.

"That's not very nice, Frodo." She said, pushing some hair behind her pointed ears. "What if I told you that _I_ was a dragon and that it is actually quite hurtful that you think so low of me." Frodo shook his head at her, confused. Then he grew still and looked down, ashamed of himself.

"But you have hands." He said quietly. "And you fit through the door…where are your wings? The teeth?" Rowen gave him a small smile.

"How do you think I'm so good at magic, darling? I have practiced for ages trying to walk among the common folk." Frodo opened his mouth to deny her when her hunger for raw meat come back to mind.

"Can you prove it?" He asked her, slightly excited to see if she was what she said. Much to his surprise, her right hand turned into a claw, and his mouth formed a little 'O' in surprise.

Concerned, he asked her if it hurt, to which she laughed and replied, "No, Frodo. It doesn't hurt."

She waited for a long while before she looked at him her eyes serious and her face like stone. "Are you afraid of me now?" She questioned.

"Of course not!" Little Frodo exclaimed. "I know that the others are wrong now, and Bilbo must have been right-because you could never hurt anyone!" He gave her a cheeky smile to which she ruffled his dark curls. "What of your family?" He asked her. "is that why you're gone so often?"

"Yes and no," She began, resting her chin on her hands. "My mother died a long while ago, as did all of my siblings aside from Aragon. My father also lives, but I know not where. Many of my kind have gone West, so I think that is where he has run off to." She didn't not tell him of the meetings that she attended due to the darkness that was extending over the land. If the shadow was not vanquished, the dragons would be forced to retreat into the West. To the undying lands, where evil could not reach.

"What is your brother like?" Frodo asked excitedly.

"He is brave, kind, and an awful singer." She laughed. "Though he will try to have you believing different." Frodo laughed as the serious tone in her voice, and they filled that afternoon with stories of her home. She hid from him the worst of it, so she did not tell him of _Nastari_ or her mother's demise.

That night, they snuck out to the stars, and she showed him her stories in displays of magic and light and laughs in the distance. He watched as beautiful dragons soared through the sky lit up by magic fairy lights. A feeling of sadness washed over Frodo as he looked up at his smiling caretaker.

She had been his surrogate for as long as he was at Bag End. She had let him sleep with her, and allowed him to braid her hair as she told him old stories of his uncle. He was always sad before she left on a trip, and a part of him knew she would be gone in the morning, leaving him asleep in her large bed wondering where his caretaker had gone.

"You will come back, won't you?" Frodo asked her as he watched the display.

"Do I not always return?" She replied. He nodded quietly and reached out to hold her hand.

!

 **I got the idea of her sword from bleach. Sns. I just think the ideas of zanpakuto is so lit tbh.**

 **I am using ideas from dragon age, inheritance cycle, and bleach at this point. Reese, have you no original ideas?**


End file.
